Whorling

For those that don’t know, I interned with Susan Lordi Marker my senior year of college, who is just about the sweetest and most generous woman I’ve ever met, an incredible textile fine artist as well as the designer of the Willow Tree line for Demdaco. I worked with her on her textiles, some roughs for her new Willow Tree line, did indigo dye and held my senior thesis show in her space. She is amazing and I still can’t thank her enough! Anyhow, she loved my dreads and her new figure, Blessings, is modeled off me. So that’s my moment of stardom! I worked some on others, and thank my Auntie Lillian and Uncle Ernie for modeling for the Anniversary piece. The whole line is great, thank you so much Susan! (thats the Willow Tree mini me on the right)

Speaking of last year, whoa! It’s so crazy to think that this time last year Ashley’s senior show, Chromatic Movements in Structure, had just passed, we were setting up my senior show, Whorl, For Those Dear, and getting ready to graduate! It’s so crazy and doesn’t feel like it’s been that long at all. I remember going to all my fellow fiber gal’s and other’s shows, the fireworks in the crossroads district, how Ashley and I got all dolled up, Kay’s painting of that night, all the last minute craziness that graduating entails, and then nearly my whole crazy family flying out to the middle of America for me! Oh it was so awesome. (below are four of my favorite ladies; Susan, Michele, Pauline and Ashley at her show-notice the chromatic movements goin on in the background)

But right now I’m here, and okay with it. I reminiscing and missing but in that remember why I came and that the difficulty is where it needs to be. Despite all my frustrations with the Cooperative, and Morocco in general, if I can read my thesis and still feel it has truth then I know I’m not all jaded and that there is work and a reason for me here.

(above is me setting up my show)

Thesis Statement-

To realize the interconnectedness of Nature, a task too great to fully comprehend, one must develop her own method for working toward the holistic vision. I conclude my time at this institution, and begin my life beyond, with weaving as the greatest metaphor for this interconnectedness. All life is composed of interactions, essentially, the relationship between one element and another. This interaction of elements is process, a seeming chaos without direction, sustained by faith in a foreseen outcome. From chaos to order and back again, the infinite dance. A mess of fibers, combed and drawn together to form one strand, then into a snarl of many strands. These threads are then brought to order in the case of a warp, and further, relate to a weft to form a complete whole, a woven piece.

The metaphor continues as these objects are brought to a new context, for a new purpose. I find that the elements of importance in my life are far simpler and more obvious than ever before, and bring my work to this place. These scarves are given as gifts to certain members of my web of relations. Worn around the neck, an unconscious reminder of connections, disguised as a practical item of body wear for warmth and comfort. I am left with the satisfaction of bringing to the physical world a metaphorical representation of my mind’s sauntering about the workings of the natural world. As naivety grows toward wisdom, so do seemingly unconnected elements grow toward a working unit. A lesson for the future, that every knot may someday become a part of a smooth cloth. That every strand, no matter how small, plays an active role in creating a whole. No element anywhere, no matter how lonely, is by itself. This is my whorl.

And the letter attached to each piece-

May 18, 2007

For those dear,

One day this past September, frustrated and exhausted by my major, and art in general, I sat down at a little loom I had borrowed but never used. I tied on six yards and began to weave. After the first yard or so I stopped caring about what it would be, or what it would mean, or what purpose it would serve. For three hours I just wove. As I wove I was allowed time to relax and reflect. I was at the beginning of my last year of college, had decided to apply for the Peace Corps, and had lost all passion and interest in art.

I began to imagine what life in the Peace Corps would be like, of walking into a completely foreign community, and becoming a part of a new family. This led me to think about my own family, and how close they are to me, though we remain miles apart. The funny thing about goodbyes is, as we all know, they make us thankful for what we have. It is easy to put on hold those we claim to love and care about the most because they always seem to be there. Knowing I am leaving for 27 months has caused me to realize how much I will miss what has always been around me. I had just as easily forgotten the essentials of art, the making. In the frustrating search for meaning in what I made, I had forgotten the making. The product, the purpose, the image, none of it mattered anymore. As I wove I allowed myself to simply enjoy the way fibers and colors come together.

While sitting at the loom, I began to explore the connections between passions, and realized I could have the best of both worlds. I have tried to keep things and I have tried to sell things, but the only satisfaction comes from giving things away. I could work on color and material combinations in the process of weaving, with the end result being a gift for someone else. For those dear to me.

I am not joining the Peace Corps to serve others; I am joining to engage in the global community through the exchange of gifts. Gifts of culture and knowledge and tolerance; peace and happiness cannot exist in the world without smiles and small gifts being continuously shared and passed along. One frown, one lost life, is a broken thread in the woven fabric of life. You all make up the whorl nearest me, and as I step into the next network I will be prepared by carrying the lessons from my life here with all of you.

Giving is never a one sided act. I could say giving is what brings the greatest satisfaction, but it is in the receiving, of smiles and love, that I am truly interested and thankful. Like people, these scarves will grow softer the more they are worn.

I love you all so much, and please enjoy,

Briana Godfrey

(if you want to see pictures I guess you have to be on Facebook, the links I put on here keep expiring and I don’t know of an easier site to post on, sorry!)

A need to know basis

My last writing and pictures were sent in an email, so if you didn’t get it email me, and if you don’t have my email then you probably shouldn’t get it anyhow! Teehee. . . I’ll write again soon.

here's a link to some other random pics though, I'll add more to it periodically

Keeper of the Night

21 April 2008

I am doing ok. Been going through some insanely low lows and equally high highs, much like this weather of winds we’ve been having, and all I want is to level out. But such is what we strive our whole lives for, right? Some kind of balance. I was away at Spring Camp for so long, and though it was great I was so happy to come home. More than that, I was so happy to notice myself lovingly referring to my humble adobe house in a far off Berber town as my home. It was a rough return, but I am enjoying so much time in my site and beginning to actually work; as a volunteer within this community, and on the deep stuff within myself.

One great healing step: my new boyfriend. He’s short, dark and handsome, Moroccan, Berber Moroccan to be exact, and all he wants is to hang out and cuddle every moment. Hahaha, relax, he’s a kitten. Sitting on my lap as I type. I got him by random chain of events in Azrou just two days after I returned from Spring Camp. And I managed to turk train him in less than a week, next he’ll be bringing me breakfast in bed! His name is Buggid Leopold Godfrey. Buggid, pronounced boo-geed, means keeper of the night, because he’s all black, and I think of him as my little protector, if only mentally. And Leopold in honor of Ashley’s cat, the best cat I’ve ever known, and who was the man of our little apartment for three years. He was killed not long after I arrived in Morocco and it makes me so sad to know I’ll never see him again, and worse that he’s gone for Ashley.

So having my new little buddy, really he’s better than any boyfriend I’ve ever had, gives me more of an anchor here. But aside from using him as the keeper of my sanity and object of affection, there has been a lot of shifting within me and the relationship I have with myself. There’s been some shit from the past creeping back up, which comes as no surprise. The whole believing you deserve happiness kind of thing, you know the story. With such real alone time and no school or truly structured job to give me a format to follow, I can no longer force myself to do things as I did before. Everything I do or don’t do is accompanied my constantly asking why and who will it matter to if I don’t? It’s a shift in the head of fully realizing that being healthy and happy is something you have to believe you deserve before you can muster the will to achieve it. Or at least that’s the way it is for me. Geez it’s so much easier to work for someone else! The change I am focusing on is so wholly within myself but so nessesary that I can’t believe in selfishness as a bad thing. I wrote in my journal one of my first days in Morocco that I thought the Peace Corps would be the next stage of getting over myself. What I think now is that it is the next stage of getting closer to myself, and with that comes more being and less thinking about being. So in the tangible, semi-more understandable world, I’m getting better by writing, beginning to dance again, and learning to cook for one person.

Ah yes, and what you really all want to hear about, the work I was sent here for. Really I’m not doing much more, but rather happen to be here at just the right time; when all their (the Co-op’s) dreams that I had no part in planning or helping to become real, well they’re here. The beautiful new building was finally finished a few days ago, and through wind and rain and sun and on our own backs as well as donkeys we carried everything but the looms over. The next day we had a transi guy help move the looms, and the day after that was spent setting up the three huge looms they’ve never been able to use due to lack of space. I helped but they really didn’t need me, when they get to setting up the harnesses and treadles and tension I’ll be more useful. And today was a huge couscous party to celebrate the opening of the new building. Mbruk! Mostly I feel inadequate right now due to my lack of language and courage to speak, but I’ve been ignoring that a bit and basking in their glory and the incredible facility they now have and the room to breathe and finally use all their supplies. I’ll have pictures up as soon as I get a new adapter so I can be online for more than half an hour at a time!

So that’s all the news I have energy to write about for now. I’ve got a couple friends coming over for some good unleavened food and I hope we can pass-over winter completely and bloom with spring. Wink wink. Big thanks to ait uxaminu (my family) for the 4am call the other night! It was delightful and I wish I could have been there.

Little side note for the day, aimed at my Aunt Laura: She gave me a little ring a few years back, I can’t even remember if it was for my birthday or Christmas, and though I didn’t wear it all that often, for some reason I brought it here with me. I decided to stop wearing my favorite ring, a big turquoise one from an Indian reservation in Arizona from my mom and Bill because it’s a little flashy around here. I put it away and found the ring from Laura. I put it on and it happens to fit perfectly on my ring finger. This is great because I’ve been telling everyone (mainly men) I’m engaged or married to get them off my back a bit and avoid the ridiculous will you marry me/will you get a visa for me/you should come to my bed, just us/ and so on conversations. It’s just easier this way. The ring has “wishes do come true” engraved on it, and while it’s a little silly, and I have no wish to get married, it feels nice to be wearing some kind of affirmation. Now I just have to figure out what my wishes are. . .

Dog Attack to Actual Disco

The plan

Wow. So ya, crazy time the past few days. I’ll begin with Thursday, a very important holiday; Eid l-mulud, the prophet Mohammed’s birthday. One in which you are supposed to come out of your house and be extra friendly to everyone. The plan was to spend the morning in my site, then hike to the next town to meet Linsey and another volunteer in the afternoon, bring them back to my place, have a lovely meal/slumber party, then the other volunteer would depart the next morning for his site, and Linsey and I would head off to Rabat for the holiday weekend. That was the plan, so of course it was destined to change. The day began quite well for me. I went to my counterpart’s house for breakfast-the most important meal of the day on holidays, and had a nice time greeting everyone around town and congratulating them. I don’t quite understand why, but you tell people congrats on holidays, as well as all the usual greetings. The day was not going so well for poor dear Linsey, who lives 2 and a half hours from anything, and the one transi guy she has decided to not go on the holiday. So literally, she had absolutely no way of getting out of her site. Grr! But I still planned to host the other volunteer, and she would head up Friday morning, inshallah.

The dogs

So around 11 silly little me, set off on my hike to the next town. See, my ssuq town is a ten minute taxi ride, a half hour bike ride or an hour and a half walk. In the opposite direction the closest town(with a couple other volunteers and a nice transport hub) is a twenty minute taxi ride. I hadn’t tried biking it because of its gradual uphill trend, and my being very much out of shape, and I hadn’t tried walking it because I hadn’t yet had time. Well, on Thursday I decided to, and oh what a decision. It was insanely windy, but beautiful out and it felt great to be moving my legs. About an hour in my mom called, so for about twenty minutes I walked backwards so the wind wouldn’t interfere and we had a lovely chat. It’s good we hung up when we did or I probably would have had a heart attack because literally no more than ten seconds later I was surrounded by beasts. Two huge dogs, two regular sized dogs, and three or four nice sixed pups. I’m all shaky again just thinking about it. Dogs are an entirely different species here; except a fair few who are raised to be domestic, they are absolute terrors. My site has a big dog problem, but you would only have to worry at night when you’re alone; in the day they’ll bark but you just have to pretend to bend over and pick up a rock and they’ll run away fast. But in the vast stretches between actual towns like mine there’ll be a random house, like the one I passed at this point, which happened to be right by the road. Dogs near homes like this only know of their owners and had probably never seen such a dummy walking along. The problem with the dogs is that they are utterly terrified of you and that’s what makes them so dangerous. It is in these moments that we manage to escape ourselves and all inhibitions and turn to utter survival mode. I was so surprised I nearly began to run, but then a big ding went off in my head, duh, the one thing you should never do when being attacked is to turn and run, so instead I turned around right as the biggest dog nearly took out my leg and began lunging, screaming and barking right back at them. I have no idea what made me do that, but I guess my only weapon of the moment was my voice and acting as much like a beast as possible. I knew I reeked with fear and my screaming and barking would only keep away who I was directing it at. I began picking up rocks too, throwing them at everything, but still I was very much out numbered. Of course these moments seem to last forever but I’m sure it was only two or three minutes. Still screaming, barking and throwing I crept backwards away from the house. Once out of their immediate territory I quieted my voice and lowered my arms, but kept walking backwards until I was a good half k away. I was well beyond shouting distance when a very confused looking old man came out of his house, probably wondering what the hell just happened, but I didn’t go back to explain. It’s amazing how much your body gets pumping after fearing for its life! Oh dear, ya so I walked awhile, nearly in tears with fear but also relief and thanks for getting away with no physical wounds. I kept my arms full of rocks, but my body began to release the tension and my heartbeat steadily returned to normal. I decided at this point that the hike was over and I’d take any ride that came along, but being a holiday, who knew when that might happen. Up ahead three women started walking along the road, and I decided to be a creep and follow them at some distance, because they know how to handle this sort of thing. We passed by a couple more angry dogs, and I threw some serious rocks at them before they even had a chance to get close, and caught a taxi a few minutes later. All in all, I am very thankful because unlike many volunteers I did not get bit. I’m bummed because that would be a pretty nice hike to do when I have the time, but at least I’m more aware of the danger now. I friggin hate dogs here.

The new plan

After lunch with the two volunteers in town, I returned to my site with my guest, by taxi of course. Though we missed Linsey we had a nice evening, he left Friday morning, and I went to Neddia’s house before meeting up with Linsey. Oh yes, Neddia. I randomly met her a couple weeks ago, and she is awesome! She comes back home often, but generally lives in Fes where she goes to college (you go girl!) studying sociology and knows a great deal of English. I love it, when trying to explain sociology in English she said it was “the study of the problems of the people” and was happy when I told her my mom studied that too. We’re the same age, and have the same name (in Morocco at least) and she assures me I am her sister. I didn’t have time for tea but assured her I would come over when I returned from Rabat. Meanwhile, way down south, Linsey did make it outa town, though only barely; as a surprise snow storm hit, ya that’s right, on the first day of spring! We finally managed to meet in Azrou that afternoon and ride the next few hours to Rabat together, lhamdullah!

The first day

We settled into a nice place, and began roaming the city! I hadn’t been there since my first couple days in this country, and wow! I can really appreciate it now, like I’d never been to a big city before. Azrou is a decent size and I love it, and I’ve never been much of a city girl, but wow! Rabat is just so big! And beautiful! And full of people! Linsey had been there a few months ago and remembered where some good eating was, and we managed to find everything we were looking for, but alas, it was all closed! Here’s a funny thing about our jobs and living here: we get most Moroccan and /or Muslim holidays off, creating a nice three or four day weekend off here and there. This is great because then we can travel further and meet up with long lost buddies, however, (like Linsey’s experience) there’s often less or no transport on holidays, and all alcohol options are closed. And let’s be honest, many of us would like to have a drink on our breaks. Anyhow, so we ended up at a hummus and falafel place, which was relatively cheap, and incredible! I haven’t had falafel since Kansas City! Then we topped it off with McFlurrys at McDonalds, which we also enjoyed far too much. Also, this entire time there was not a moment of silence as we had to catch up on so much after not seeing each other in over two months! We then had amazing hot showers at the hotel, I don’t even wanna think about how long it’s been, but I love having smooth legs. And then, we crashed. Poor Linsey had only been travelling for twelve hours or so!

The full day

Saturday morning we went to Marjan, kind of like a Walmart in Morocco, only expensive. It’s awesome because it has many things we just can’t get anywhere near our sites, but pretty far from our little budgets. We got some fanciful things anyhow and then went to the American Club for lunch. Can I say wow again? More than anything it proved to me that I am going to be a super freak for quite some time when I return to the states. Everyone spoke in English, the menu was in English, we sat at the bar, with a sports channel on in English and I had a beer, a caesar salad, cheeseburger and fries, oh yea. I haven’t had salad since the states either, it was great. After resting up a bit we headed off for the beach! I can’t decide what was the best about this trip for it was all amazing, but the beach was certainly fighting for first. I had never gone so long in my life without seeing the ocean. I do love the mountains, but only the great expanse of water can really ground me, the ocean is my center. It was like a reset button. The water was freezing but I stood in it anyway and was dying to jump in. Oh that salt air, mmm I miss it again already. I needed it, but I think standing in that ocean was one of the most homesick moments I’ve had. So I’ve now been in both sides of the Atlantic, the Pacific of course, the Red Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, and does the Dead Sea count? How many more do I have to go? We made our way back through the medina, which, along with the rest of Rabat is the most chill of all big cities. Meaning, you aren’t hassled nearly as much as other places. It’s so much more relaxing to shop without people screaming at you!

The cool kids

Later on, since vacations are really all about food, we went to the gunthe institute, essentially the German Club. Oddly, the food was all Italian, and I had, no kidding, the best pizza of my life! We were completely stupid over how much we loved those pizzas. Near the end a group began forming at a table next to us, and awesome mix of cultures and languages, and they asked us to join them. They were awesome! It was a group of daners, from Spain, Morocco, Mexico, Chad and I think France; and everyone spoke at least three of the following: Spanish, English, Darija, French, Tamazight. They were amazing, and it was so interesting to see such a different face of Morocco. They were amazed we were living out in the middle of nowhere for two years as volunteers and we were shocked by such casual conversation and people. It was quite refreshing. They then invited us to a jazz place, we missed the jazz and it was quite swank and quiet, so after a beer we headed off to another bout of culture shock-a real discotheque. Ok I swear it’s the last time I’ll say it, but WOW. It was just like any other crazy, loud, dirty dancing club you might be picturing, except that it felt so out of place here. Or at least Linsey and I did; in our hand washed and far from clubbing appropriate attire, and deep in the bled mindsets. We’re now used to never being in close contact with men, and haven’t observed PDA since leaving the states. We all stayed a bit, and really had a great night overall. We were overwhelmed by how nice these “city folk” were to us, and just how far from that life we are now living. It was after 3am when we finally rolled into bed and crashed only to wake up four hours later to catch early enough busses to get back to our sites before dark on Easter. It was a short tip to an entirely different world, but I couldn’t ask for more.

3aydx s tadartinu (I returned home)

And now I am home, oh how I love my house, my site, Morocco, truly I do today. It’s nice to go away to a city, but I’m so happy to be back here too. I left for the co-op this morning and on my way saw Mimoun. He was the host brother of a volunteer who had CBT here, and he’s very kind. Boundaries are difficult here, especially for a woman, but he’s one of those few that truly wants only to talk, share culture and learn. He helped the volunteer before with Tam, and vice versa with English. So after the co-op today we had tea and chatted a long time-a good mixture of Tam and English. And soon I’m going to get another couple volunteers out here and he’s going to take us on a hike. Finally I can conquer these awesome mountains calling my name! I haven’t hiked them yet because everyone in my town would flip out if I went alone, and since my little canine battle I certainly won’t. Then, as if I wasn’t exhausted enough, I went to Neddia’s house, as promised. It was great; her family is huge and so nice! My Tam is already rusty after Rabat where no one speaks it, but Neddia’s family is the type where me saying just one word in Tam throws them over the edge with laughter and praise. It was fun, and I’m certainly going to head over there more often.

Walani, awd ad ddux (but I will leave again)

I’ve just been relaxing in my tube now, I’ve got an insane amount to do, but am so dang tired! Tomorrow I’m going to Azrou for tutoring, posting this, and a variety of other errands before Wednesday, eek! For Wednesday I depart for nearly two weeks! I’m working at a Spring Language Immersion Camp, a good two day trip away from me near the border of Algeria! It’s essentially a weeklong camp for Moroccan youth learning English, to learn more English, do all kinds of activities and share culture, etc. I don’t quite know all that it entails, but I will be doing art activities with another volunteer and let you all know how it goes when I get back! I am super excited for this camp because I really haven’t had a chance to work with Moroccan youth or teach yet, but I am also excited to get back. I’ve been in Morocco almost seven months now and have not stopped moving! I am determined to stay put a bit and find some kind of routine when I get back. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I need to ground myself a little better. I’ve been telling people in my site that I know I travel too much but I love it here and when I get back I want to stay put! They love hearing that and I do mean it. And hopefully I can start writing about my real work with the co-op too! For there is a lot happening with that, but it’s all fragmented and I’ll talk more about it soon. Oh my, I really need to get up and start packing and getting ready before the night is gone!

And I changed the settings on here so you can comment, sorry I didn’t realize I was blocking everyone! I love and miss you all as much as always.

6 month anniversary and why Ashley is my favorite person in the world

11 March 2008

Didn’t realize until nearly 11pm tonight when Linsey texted me, “I forgot to say happy 6 months, we’ve survived morocco for exactly 6 months today. Can’t wait to see ya!” So ya, purdy cool. Today was alright, did errands and tutoring in Azrou, and tonight I was arm deep in goat poo! That’s right, bought some raw goat hair at ssuq today, and goat hair I think reeks more than any other fiber, ugh. But I couldn’t be happier. Most of the time life and all my dysfunction’s are just too complicated and confusing to handle, and then there are those moments when I really think I’m just the simplest person on earth; gimme some coffee and some fiber and I’m high and happy as a kite. Doesn’t last long, but it’s nice. Haven’t done fiber properties in forever! I’ve never spun goat hair, but I’ve always wanted to, I’ll let you know how it goes. It’s really beautiful and I think if I card it with the wool the Cooperative gave me I’ll spin up a fine yarn. The staple is like 3 inches long! Mmm, can’t wait. But the other huge occupant of my time has been planning what I’m going to teach at Spring Camp, I’ll update you on what the heck that is soon, but the other half of tonight, taking a break from the goat shit, was experimenting with plaster to find the right ratio of water and what materials to do mosaics with, I’m very excited! And I got my ferno going on the first try!

12 March 2008

And then. . . I went to the post office and my dear postman pulled out a package, slowly as possible, and tried to read, “ass-heel-ee” and I screamed, “tamdaqltinu!” (which means “my friend”). It was hard to keep from giggling and smiling ear to ear on my walk home, which seemed to take forever even though I live right around the corner from the post office. I know I said I wouldn’t do this again, but I’m so dang excited about all of it I am going to flaunt here every crumb she sent. First popped out a lovely wool hat she knit with MY NEWT written across with a little newt above it, much of the contents are inside jokes, you don’t need to get it, but she’s my newt and I’m here newt, and that’s no minute fact. Then there were 7 balls of Cascade 220 Peruvian highland wool- the prime felting wool for slippers, yippie! And the pattern of course so I can finally make the slippers I owe people, some for myself, hey I may as well get a business goin. Then, Nilla wafers and Nutella. Which is hilariously unnecessary as Nutella is abundantly available here, but I don’t care, oh freshman year! Then a box of sweethearts and three king size packs of Take 5. Whats take 5 you might ask? Hahaha, it’s a very complicated answer. . . A couple framed pictures of us, some of our last days as well the hellish winter Wisconsin has had, other people and places I love. . . the Jan/Feb issue of Fiberarts, complete with yellow tabs and highlighting with personal jokes and touches- it’s crazy cuz we actually know so many people in that magazine, and weird to look at the art world I left. A dradle magnet from Emily *insert inappropriate jokes I can’t tell here* which is extra funny as I have no fridge to stick it to; I did however get a good ten minute laugh in as I realized the one thing in my house it would stick to- my ferno! Some all American tissues, which I kinda needed as I sniffled and laughed throughout the escapade of opening this package, an article from The Onion about alpacas being the answer to saving Americas economy, and an excerpt from The Onion’s book, Our dumb World on Morocco, some postcards of very important places in, and then, oh my, a tube! The tube is something just too great to fully comprehend, I’d explain it here but it would just take too long and I don’t know if all my readers are ready for it, but it’s in penguin fleece and its almost as good as hugging my Ashley. . and last but not least, in fact probably the best, a 15 page, front and back, so really 30 page letter, written exactly like she were sittin here talkin to me. So ya, that made for a splendid evening. I do love you all, am ever grateful once again for everything you send, there’s just nothing like family. And truly, there;s nothing like Ashley.

Also- I plan on being online again for quite some time Sunday afternoon, I have to go for ssuq anyhow, so, since I can’t say anything about the future without saying inshallah, inshallah I will be there! And ready to chat!

gimme some wool, i've got a wheel!

26 February 2008

(just putting out the vibe in my big lonely kitchen)

It’s been a fine day, and that’s all I’m gonna write about for now. I woke up and made Swedish pancakes (a great reassurance that I can survive morocco), did a couple loads of laundry (meaning two sink loads, amounting to a quarter of a load in a real washing machine, scrubbed by hand on a wooden washboard, rinsed in buckets in the bathroom, and saving the frigid water for toilet flushing, and hung to dry on the power line outside, it’s quite a process), and then made my way to the cooperative. I’ve been way too busy lately and worried that I haven’t been building much of a relationship with the co-op, or my community as a whole because I’m gone so much. I’ve decided to cut back my tutoring to once a week beginning in March, because I’m tired, broke and just want to spend some time in my site! Anyhow, so remember how I said in morocco things just happen and they just don’t? Well, things happened today! I went to the co-op with no real big plans, just the usual sitting there, absorbing Tam and trying to communicate and thinking a lot about what I’ll be doing. Then the president asked me if I could try and fix the broken loom, yippee! I had to go to another woman’s house for some parts, and like my host moms shed, she’s got an entire room of weaving supplies. It makes me drool. I then worked up the courage to finally ask to borrow a spinning wheel, and of course they said yes. So back at the co-op I couldn’t fix the loom, I need to look up the model, it’s the only one like it at the co-op, and I can’t get the treddling to harness tension right. Then I had lunch at my counterparts house, I love her family. And she seemed to be more approving and encouraging of my Tam today than other days. I told them I’d come back to fix the loom Saturday. I went home to bring my clothes in before the rain began to pour again, went for tea, and brought a lovely spinning wheel home! I’m working on getting carders and wool, and inshallah, by Sunday I should be spinning up a storm! I’m still dying to weave, but spinning’s my second choice. I came home, rested, made mac n cheese, and pretty much spent the last few hours cleaning, admiring and making my house my home. Today was small and manageable, and I needed the simple encounters I had with people to reassure my place.

Big thanks- once again the mail didn’t come for a few weeks, so when it did I had three packages to embarrassingly walk home with. I should stop listing off every single delight they were packed with, but I’ll say two were from my dad and stepmom, with enough valentines to give my whole staj, and enough powdered cheese packets to avoid Moroccan food for a month. And my mom sent me enough books for me to avoid studying and read happily for the same month (some she’s been trying to get me to read for years and I know she threw them in cuz when im desperate I will! Ooo, sneaky)

Im really sorry to anyone who hung around skype waiting for me last Friday, as I obviously never showed. Dang me for trying to make plans again! Shh, don’t tell, but maybe next Friday.

no particular valentine

14 February 2008

I often seem to end my blog posts like “next time” bits at the end of Arrested Development (the most hilarious show for those that don’t know) They sound interesting, but never actually show up in the next episode, so here’s a tid bit of catch up before I go on with the now;

lEid-I wrote a ton and recorded the whole affair in my journal but couldn’t find a way to type it all up right. Though I didn’t have to eat balls (that’s not an innuendo, that’s literal) like many other volunteers, I did eat plenty of intestine, stomach, belly fat, etc., and as that carcass never seemed to diminish, I started outright refusing after the head was served. Due to family drama over all it was not a good experience for me, so if you want to hear what Eid is really like, plenty of other PC Morocco blogs wrote about their experiences in late December.

My last battle in the war on cold during homestay-the fridge broke. Now why the fridge even needed to be on is the bigger confusion. Not everyone has a fridge, and this time of year it’s certainly not necessary, but nonetheless, my family set up an inferno in the kitchen to heat up the fridge enough to get it working again.

The reason why they shovel snow off the roof-when it melts it will leak through.

Transport fun- that day I went to see Linsey while my region was over a foot deep in snow. I road the school bus to the nearest town with a taxi stand, an hour later they decided the ice was melted enough to drive on, but we later hit a broke down truck road block anyhow. The taxi driver asked me if I had any bread and lauged when I said no, because we could be there for a long time. It was a neat experience though to see people just come together and get to work, literally shoveling out a new path, and laying down tree branches because no one has chains. And I still made it to my destination before dark and had a great visit with Linsey.

The now-Happy Valentines Day! I’m not one with any particular feelings one way or the other on this holiday, but it was certainly nice to not have to see a bunch of schmoozy couples around, as PDA is illegal in Morocco. I’m already taken aback in slightly bigger cities when a couple dare hold hands; I have no idea how I’ll react when I go to the states or Europe or anyplace else and see people, whoa, like kissing, eek. The most romantic sight has been the great big white stork couples that have begun staking claim and hanging out their huge nests, and that really is a beautiful thing.

It’s been a swell day overall. Also, I keep forgetting to mention it, but Liz’s blog, Adventures of a Young Twentysomething, is awesome and she’s the closest volunteer to me (that being a twenty minute taxi ride). Though we’re all having very different experiences, it’s a good read; particularly for those of you irritated with my infrequent blog posting. So this morning I went to her town for suqq and to visit. We had an awful suqq trip; between the cold, the rain and some horrendous encounters with men, I also lost my little money bag. The men redeemed themselves in my view as I retraced my steps to a hanut and the owner had my coin purse there for me, untouched-now that’s amazing. After some more errands we made pancakes, pretty dang good for our first try in Morocco, and topped them with the best sounding thing around- Jif peanut butter from the states, and they made a very fine Valentine’s Day lunch. Oh and she also treated me to Starbucks coffee, in a real mug, which is about three times the Moroccan single serving, and is probably why I’m wide awake and happy and typing so late at night.

And now I’ve got the hiccups after polishing off my fourth cup of pistachio yogurt as I am unwilling to move from this wonderfully warm spot to cook. There are many roles we volunteers play besides helping the people of the country in which we’re serving; we also help each other and develop excellent mooching skills. Yesterday I nearly flipped out cuz I was so sick of being cold. My host family’s house was a freezer but with a warm ferno escape room; my house is only fridge temperature, but with no warm escape. I have to admit that no matter how easy Moroccans make it look, I cannot get my ferno going to save my life! I bought two donkeys of wood, yes it’s measured by the donkey, and can get a little going, but then it dies. It’s such a sad thing, and metaphoric, to fail at making fire, oh woe is me. So until I have the courage and words to ask for help, I’ve decided to buy a small electric heater to keep my blood flowing. However, I have to travel to a much bigger town to buy an electric heater, so I borrowed one today from a volunteer whose out of town, and oh my is it lovely (typing without gloves on is so much easier!) and that’s why I’m refusing to get up and cook.

I’ve been joking lately that if nothing else, Peace Corps will make me a great housewife. Haha, but don’t worry, there will be much else made of me here, and I have no plans on being a housewife! But I do keep tidy, primarily because I have to, not because I want to. Cleaning is a great way to keep warm, as it is so much work. Washing dishes means lighting the butagaz to heat up water, opening a window so you don’t get butagaz poisoning, hoping the water is in fact running, scrubbing with freezing faucet water till you’re numb, then blessing your dishes and hands with a hot water rinse, and as the feeling in your fingers returns, finding something clean and dry to dry the dishes with (as most of my cookware is certainly not stainless steel I have to dry it or it will rust). The mud abode is definitely a haven for bugs and lots of, duh, dirt, so I have to clean up any and all food items and even sweeping daily produces quite a mound of dust and dirt. Ya, so by this point I’ve warmed up a bit.

I don’t have a fun Tam fact for ya tonight, but I do have a Moroccan joke, or rather, something funny I actually understood. Any moment when I am laughing with rather than being laughed at is fabulous. At ssuq a couple weeks ago with my host sister and a little girl that was with us had a dirham and bought herself cotton candy, which I don’t think she’d ever had before because she ate it so awkwardly, and exclaimed, tadoht! Which means wool, hahaha, because cotton candy looks like wool, it was a nice moment.

BIG THANKS-mail only seems to come to my site about every three weeks, so last week I got three packages in one day. Dunno if you all care, but its of great excitement to me so I’m going to tell you the contents anyhow. A laptop case from my Uncle Gary and Aunt Kris, along with enough Reeses to give treats to my whole duar if they celebrated Halloween, powdered parmesan cheese, a block of parmesan cheese that was thoroughly covered in mold, but since it’s a hard cheese and I’m desperate I fully intend on scraping off the outer layer and eating it still, some manatee pictures to hang in my house, and then being the people my family are, they sent me a bunch of powdered cheese packets without the pasta cuz its lighter, and numbered them, a kind of blind test, so I can tell them which one I like best and they’ll send more. My grandma and grandpa sent me some clothes, knitting needles, TJ’s Mac n Cheese, TJs cheese crunchies and TJs peanut butter pretzels, I forgot how amazing those are! (note to grandma-I know I said those pants were too big, but I’ve worn them every day since over two other pairs of pants and love them so much!) My dear mom sent some random clothes, liquid garlic pills in case I lose hearing again (note: I’m no doctor, but I do know garlic is a natural antibiotic. I get a fair amount of ear infections, and since they stopped prescribing the yummy pink medicine years ago and my mom started taking us to see natural remedy doctors, it’s now my first choice. Poke a liquid garlic pill with a pin and squirt some directly into your ear, and stuff some cotton in there for an hour or so. You’ll stink like a beast, sorry Ashley, who had to live with me for so long, but honestly the infection goes away in under three days. Taking any garlic pill orally works too, but takes a bit longer. So there’s my two cents of experience) and then, opla! I was cracking up and nearly in tears as Hughy popped out! Most of you know that I have been head over heels for manatees since about the third grade, and around that time my Uncle Gary and Aunt Kris gave me a perfect hugging sized manatee stuffed animal, I still remember the box. Anyhow it’s Hughy, for hugh-manatee, like hu-manity, ahaha, for my ever earth loving side. So I left him at home of course and never expected him to travel to Morocco, but as this past month has been thoroughly stressful and I’ve been in deep need of hugs, it was a very welcome and much appreciated surprise. I can’t express to you all just how thankful I am for everything, for the stuff of course, but also your letters, your emails, and calls that I know cost a lot but always come at just the right time. Shukran bzaf!

That’s all for now, glad to hear so many of you enjoyed the new pictures and I love and miss you all as much as ever. I’ll check my email Tuesday or Thursday real quick, but if any of you wanna chat on Skype I’m hoping to be online all afternoon next Friday, but of course it’s always too soon to be sure or promise plans.

And next time on Bri Weaves . . . how much I wish I was weaving, falling into a whorl again, the amazing natural dyeing workshop last week, my brief stint with a kitten, the emu that has replaced me back home in California, the art of mooching a shower, not entirely related to my week without running water, and other things I’ve learned its possible but not comfortable to live without, more crazy dreams, my awkward demeanor, and dancing again. That sounds like a lot, maybe I should take votes on what actually sounds interesting. . .

a few

i'll write soon, but here's a link to some pics, the picasa site just takes way too long to upload things. love you all!

my own mud hut in Africa

19 January

Aw, I just finished, embarrassingly only my second book since arriving here, A Thousand Splendid Suns, marvelous. Wow, dunno if I’ve ever used that word before. Also, don’t care how much of a sappy girl it makes me, but I totally cried. It kind of surprises me that a book can do that, but overall it’s refreshing and nice. Speaking of being sniffly, I am so damn tired of being sick! Various illnesses are always a muck- today its mucus finally draining and becoming a cough, soon I’ll loop back around to sore throat and inflamed tonsils, maybe a migraine, take your pick. It’s hard to ever get better when you’re always cold. And of course a lovely daily dose of acid indigestion. It’s no wonder though, as the hilarious yet useful book Peace Corps gives all Volunteers, Where There Is No Doctor says, its caused by too much heavy and or greasy food, coffee, carbonated and or alcoholic drinks and not enough water. Ha! Now half of that is definition of homestay, the other half is what I indulge in when I’m not home, so duh, and ow.

But on with the story of the moment, this is going to be poorly edited for I want to post it tomorrow when I go to my souq town, bear with me. There is so frigging much to catch up on, but all I care about right now is how happy I am, so here is the story of why. To sum it up, followed of course by a ridiculously long explanation- fight for your right! The right I have been fighting for is to my own house. It is amazing how quickly it has all happened and how easily it all could have fallen through. In Morocco things just work and they just don’t, you’re a bottomless pit of sorrow and confusion one moment and a radiant ball of sunshine the next (I have a long post written about this too, but who knows when it’ll be up) Though I am lacking in many areas, I am damn proud of myself for fighting this battle out.

I won’t go into all the intricacies, but I will say this first, all Peace Corps Volunteers of course face challenges and difficulty of various kinds in their sites, and I do not mean to ever say my experience is harder that anyone else’s. That aside, I’m not going to lie, I was put into a site and situation with challenges and a reputation I had no part in building. I try to hold no grudge against either party, as I was not here, but let’s just say many of the women I am to work with have been very skeptical of my presence. So rather than just having the task of building a good reputation, I have the task of breaking down the reputation of the previous volunteer while simultaneously building a good one of my own. Anyhow, it’s complicated but it’s what I have to work with, and I am! Because of the previous volunteers close relationship with the host family, the first and foremost opportunity I have to show the community I am different is by moving out, and that is the battle of which I am writing. I want to note quickly that my host family has been very kind to me and I don’t mean to paint them in a bad light, it is only in their view of my best interest that this process has been so difficult. Here, the thought of a woman living alone is comparable to inviting a donkey in for tea and cookies to chat about politics-it's ludicrous. Though my mom is really angry and worried now, I hope with time she’ll be happy to have me here as a coworker, not a daughter.

As miscommunication continued and my mom got the gendarme (like the county sheriff, or, for the single, young, and female mirikani, a very overprotective father) involved in keeping me in her house for two years, I needed an intervention, so last Thursday, my tutor come to town to help. We found the mokadem (kind of the village protector/leader/know all) and he showed me a mud house at the other end of town, but it was huge and barren and not up to Peace Cops code. The only other place available was half the second floor of, conveniently, my mom’s friend’s house across the street from her. It was cute, but very small, and essentially would amount to two years of homestay. Though the day ended well with the women finally understanding I would not be living with my host family and much of their jealousy lifted quickly, where I would be living was still a very big question.

Due to the Muslim New Year I had a four day weekend, and headed off to meet up with Linsey again, her site mates, and even with my worries, had an awesome couple trips to McDonalds and plenty of pizza, etc., but that trip is a different story. I came back on Sunday to more family drama, and no new house prospects. On Monday I thought I’d try and see about a different house near the mud one, at which point my mom began yelling about how the boys would get me and I wouldn’t be safe unless she could see me, etc., etc., until I couldn’t understand her anymore. Next thing I knew she and another woman were accompanying me. And then chaos ensued. I found the mokadem, tried to explain I simply wanted to see the other house available in the area, but he kept pointing to the mud house, and my mom started yelling again, and no one was understanding anyone. So I called my tutor to translate, but after my mom screamed at him and the mokadem talked to him, by the time I got the phone he began telling me the mokadem said the landlord of the mud house was willing to build whatever I wanted, and the my minutes ran out. My host mother kept on her dramatic stammering riot, and it was a rough couple nights.

Wednesday, however, was the turning point. Out of courtesy I went with my mother to look at her friend’s house again, but oh the betrayal! As she made her way to the co-op I had to lie and tell her I had to run to the post office. It was only a half lie, for I was going to the post office, but I was also going to get my house, armed with fresh vocabulary from my tutor. The mokadem was not at his store so I went to the post office to kill time, and oh my- my box from my dad finally arrived! (Only a month and a half late!) It was HUGE! A ton of Reeses, Trader Joes cheese treats, powdered parmesan, goofy pez dispensers, some games, more Smartwool socks, and best of all- tall dark brown Uggs- my saviors. I love them so much I’m gonna name them. My feet haven’t been cold since that day, they make me so happy! I may actually survive the winter now! Though I was still stressed, it was hard not to smile and I honestly thought I could do no wrong in my new boots, at least for a day, and it was so! (side note- for those wondering, and know me well, no I did not sleep in my boots)

The mokadem had still not returned so I made my way to the mosque, or the town center, where an afternoon prayer had just ended so it was swarming with men. I felt like a dummy trying to find this guy when it’s not a good idea to look men in the face, but that’s the only way to recognize anyone of course. Then I spotted a woman from the co-op, who I knew was important, but didn’t even know her name. She helped me find the mokadem, but he was busy and asked if she could take me to meet the landlord. Mashi mushkil. So we walked, clear across town to his house, then back to the house in question with him and his mother. He was very welcoming and I actually managed to ask for everything I wanted and he understood! I got Peace Corps staff on the phone to explain again and once someone could come and do the paperwork it was settled! Yippee!!

Then me and this woman, whose name I was too embarrassed to ask for, left for the co-op. On the way we randomly bumped into my counterpart, who I had seen maybe twice since I got here and had no idea how to approach. The three of us stopped in the new coop building; which is huge, amazing and nearly finished! Of course she invited us for tea at her house next door, and though I knew my mom was probably frantic as I had not returned from my post office errand in nearly three hours, there was no way I was going to refuse finally meeting with the woman who is supposed to be my main contact and working partner for the next two years! So we had tea and she said I was welcome anytime. Hamdullah! By the time we left it was lunch time, I thanked the woman who had helped me out all day so much and ran home, wanting to jump up and down with joy, but also dreading my mother’s reaction to my activities. And it was as expected, she asked where I’d been in that freaky mom tone and I told her, eek, that I’d found a house near the post office, and had tea at Fatima’s. She was pissed; you don’t need to have a syllable of common language to figure that out. Then there was much heated discussion with our neighbor, more tears and angry faces, but there was no backing down from me. All in all I think it’s healthy for them to see a grown woman living alone and happy and safe. She then informed me that the woman who’d been helping me all day was actually the president of the co-op, her name was Rabha, and she lives only a couple houses down from my new home, thank you!

Then Malika from PC came yesterday, settled everything with my landlord and inshallah, the first house I looked at will be ready and mine the first of February! I don’t have pictures yet, but here’s a wordy overview; he’s closing off the outdoor bathroom (Peace Corps policy- so I don’t go outside at night), and extending it inside so I can bathe and wash clothes. Then building a long counter and sink in the biggest room for my kitchen. Then there’s the inferno room, though the house in general keeps a nice temp cuz its mud, that’ll be the warm, and if I ever have company, socializing, room. Then the bedroom, but really it’s just going to be my ‘stuff” room because I plan on sleeping in the ferno room. A little hallway to the right just inside the front door will be a sort of garage for my bike, firewood, and maybe a litter box? Please note- I absolutely hate litter boxes but the pros of having a solely indoor cat with a litter box far outweigh the cons of having an indoor/outdoor cat (I don’t have money for rabies shots, worm and flea stuff, etc), so yea, I’ll clean up its shit. Then he’s going to build me a ladder and I’ll make a clothes line on the roof. Eek! As I told another PCV earlier, who’s equally psyched to move into her own place, it’s like I have a huge crush I can’t stop daydreaming about; only for an awesome house, not a dumb boy! We’re all getting goofy about our new homes, drawing out detailed birds eye views of the layout and what’s goin where. Its gonna be igouda bzaf!

Oh hamdullah, it feels so good to feel good again! To have a place to call my own for the next two years. I understand homestay, but I am dying for my own dance space! It’s hard to enjoy my time alone, for the only place I can be alone is my room which is approximately 1/3 my own body temperature. This whole house business and running all over town this past week has built up my vocabulary but I want to know Tam more than ever now! When Malika was here we went over to Fatima’s house, long story, but they’re good friends and to sit there and watch them laugh and chat, I wanted in so bad! Like I was a little girl wishing so bad that I could talk to the cool popular girl. I will. She’s well educated and I can see is going to be expecting more from me than just being here, which is good! At the moment two years doesn’t seem like enough time, but I’ll use it well. I’m glad to finally feel welcome at more people’s homes so I can practice Tam and really integrate. I’ve allowed myself to stay too sheltered so far, it’s good to get out!

Work was good today too. I get tired of just sitting there quietly, but am too shy to initiate much communication, so my little project right now is the language of the looms, ha. I’m doing detailed drawings of the four types of looms I’ve observed being used among the co-op; the way old school vertical-handmade-tied to the walls wood looms they only work on at home, the government issued vertical metal looms, one at the co-op and one at my counterparts house, and the two types of horizontal modern looms at the co-op. Then I will label them in Tam and begin to teach the women how to fix them. Simple things like the fact that most of them don’t use the brake on the back beam but I don’t know why. I think this is a good way to start showing them my background and get them asking questions. I still want to fix the big loom but if we move into the new building soon maybe I shouldn’t. Ah, and funny little language note: in Tam, the verb “to weave”, the noun “warp,” and the noun “loom” are all the same word- astta. Again- Tam is hard! Wow, long story, but I enjoyed it! Ooo, and congrats, a few days early, to my grandma and grandpa, celebrating their 45^th year of surviving marriage! Tbarkla!

Snow

4 January 2008

As usual, nature’s keepin it real. Yesterday the weather culminated in a super storm of all forms just as my mood and mind had been building up to going absolutely nuts as I had not left my site in 8 days and hadn’t bathed in two weeks. Many factors played into my stir-craziness, but mostly it left me hating on life and myself and my lovely little site much too much. But the great lessons this country teaches me daily are many, and yesterday of course it was to never be heartbroken by your fixed plans, in fact, don’t ever have fixed plans.

Normally I love wind, it’s refreshing and scary, and fun to play in, but in a world of dust, the fifteen minute walk to my two planned errands of going to the post office, only to find yet again that my package had not yet arrived, and having tea with one of the nicest old ladies in town (though she’s completely un-understandable) was quite scary. Then my further plans for the day, going to the Co-op and the cyber, fell through as it began to rain, and soon, hail. The weather was yelling as loud as my little host nephew. So for the rest of the day I sat quietly, as usual, but my mind was screaming with everything I wasn’t getting done, and how much I wanted to get out of here.

Later that evening I braved leaving the inferno room to pee, so focused on my own demolished self, I didn’t even look up as I stepped out the front door and into the bit lma. Then as I came out I was shocked to find that it was snowing, and even more shocked that I hadn’t noticed the quiet, for snow seems to silence all, guess I just let my brain get too loud. I smiled big and laughed at my ridiculous nature and all my frustrations, and sat back behind the inferno, doing the same thing, just sittin there, but feeling oh so different about it all. Not better necessarily, but I humored myself. And within minutes the power was out. Ha. So we sat by light of the fire and a buta gas lamp and had dinner a half hour early.

Funny how unprepared you always are at these times. We had randomly had coffee instead of tea with kascrew, so I was wide awake on caffeine, but I had let my battery on my laptop go, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to type for long, and my ipod was in the red too, and of course I had no idea where my AAA rechargeable batteries were for my fading push light because I hadn’t needed to use them yet, but I had nothing to read anyway, so what did it matter? Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much.

This morning, I woke up to a world of white. A good eleven inches of it. And it’s beautiful. Atfl bzaf! Growing up near the beach in southern Cali, I never lived with snow, but I did go through a good four years of it in college in Missouri, and have decided I much prefer living Mediterranean. However, its impossible to not love the first snow, especially on the dry, red dirt landscape of Morocco. Oh, forgot to mention, the power came back on this morning, but the waters off, eh. And as the day progresses, so slowly, I’m oddly okay with it all, cuz really, I have absolutely no power to stop it.

Somehow in realizing how powerless I am in one area inspires me to take control of an area I do have power in. Presently, that would be me falling into madness, no not really, but I’m just getting too frustrated and too stubborn too quickly. I’ve decided to pull yet another unexpected page from my mom’s book and start doing “what I love about you’s” for Morocco when I journal, just like we used to do at family meetings. Sounds silly, and it certainly always was the most dreaded portion, because all we really wanted to do was rip each other’s hair out, but in hindsight, I’m ever thankful, for those are the only moments I really remember about family meetings. Since much of my journaling is ranting, raving and whining, it’s good to take a moment to think, even forcefully, about what I do love. What I love about Morocco today is its ability to be a never ceasing lesson in patience, its mountains, and the women, who, even with infants strapped to their backs, are shoveling snow of their roofs. I don’t think I’ll ever understand most things. Speaking of understanding, I’m also taking more control in learning the language, but I’ll talk about that more in another post.

Though the snow has screwed over my plans of getting to the cyber today as well, they don’t exactly salt all the roads here, I really hope its cleared up enough by tomorrow! For I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for much to long! My best friend here, Linsey, who’s placed a good eight hour bus ride from me, is meeting me in Azrou for the night! Not only am I ecstatic about seeing her and talking in English about anything and everything for a good 24 straight hours (we may even need a talking stick cuz I dunno if either of us is gonna be able to shut up long enough to listen, you try going just one day without speaking English or seeing someone you’ve known longer than a month), I will also have a shower! And ooo, I’m even going to shave! Both of which I haven’t done since swear in in Fes - that was over a month ago. I’ve “bathed” here, but there’s just nothing as great as a shower, and two weeks is just, wow, way too long. And the thought of actually letting my hair down! I’ve taken to wearing headscarves easily, it’s just so much more practical here, and I’ve nearly forgotten already the feeling of hair in my face. We also plan on indulging in pizza, coke, snickers and the avocado and almond yogurt milk were both obsessed with (it’s an absolutely divine combination I am sorry the states have not yet discovered). I’ve come to accept the weathers terms today, but if it prevents me, or Linsey, from getting there tomorrow I might go bezerk.

Telling songs of the day:

Blacking Out The Friction by Death Cab For Cutie, it just very appropriate for my current state. And Snow by Red Hot Chili Peppers, the title is of course, but also I’ve been thinking about my two awesome little sisters in Washington and how much I miss them. For whatever reason, Hanna loves it and made me play it like eight times on the drive home from camping this summer. So listened to it a few extra times tonight. I love and miss you girls.

(eek, and I’ve been working on a long post about the big Eid, all various the sheep parts I’ve eaten, temporarily losing hearing in my right ear, the new year, my newest battles in the war on cold, and the difficult process of moving out, but it will have to come later)